


Pirates of the China Seas

by ellerean



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerean/pseuds/ellerean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Rin's life he's wanted to be a pirate, adopting his father's childhood dream for his own. So when the infamous Captain Nanase lands at Port Iwatobi, he's determined to get on that ship no matter what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pirates of the China Seas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oyasumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oyasumi/gifts).



> Minimum word count? What's that?
> 
> Needless to say, I _loved_ this prompt. Merry Christmas!

His sister used to come with him to the ocean, back when Father was alive.

Rin tied the bandana tighter around his head. It was less a fashion statement than something to keep his hair in place as he looked out at the sea. No matter the day or the hour, there always seemed to be a slight breeze. He’d perched on a boulder, balancing on the balls of his feet as he settled into a crouch. There were no ships on the water that day. But still, he stayed.

Their father used to take them out to the ocean all the time, sharing tales of pirates on the open sea. “I just about joined them,” he’d say, staring longingly at the water.

Rin remembered how he’d cling to his father, tugging on his pant leg to urge him to go on. “What happened?” he’d ask, even though they’d heard the story countless times.

He’d smile down at his children, ruffling Rin’s hair and holding them both closer. “We had you.”

It wasn’t until after his passing that Rin understood the extent of his dream. They’d found more seafaring supplies than a mere fisherman would need—compasses, sextants, detailed maps of the seven seas. Gou dismissed it as a childish dream, but Rin knew that their father had never forgotten about the life he’d almost lived.

Rin put one hand into his pocket to feel for the compass, rubbing a thumb along its age-worn edge. It had been his favorite of his father’s belongings, and his mother had permitted a younger Rin to have it as long as he took good care of it. But even a rambunctious seven-year-old couldn’t destroy the old, well-traveled compass.

His phone buzzed in his other pocket. _Come home and eat_ , his mother wrote.

Rin took one last look at the ocean, filled his lungs with the salty air, and then stood to head home for dinner.

 

No one bothered the little town of Iwatobi. Though Rin checked the ocean daily, the only boats upon it were local fishermen. He tried not to think about his father being among them, all those years ago, but it was impossible when they all still remembered him. Rin didn’t make a habit of going all the way down to the port, and the fishermen themselves were uncomfortable around Matsuoka’s son. It reminded them of their own mortality and the friends lost in that storm all those years before.

But Rin liked keeping his distance. From up high, it was easier to see farther out on the ocean, anyway. In case there were pirates.

“There have _never_ been pirates at Iwatobi,” his sister said.

“Shut up!” Rin barked. “Dad saw ’em, remember?”

Gou rolled her eyes. She’d never believed the story of their father encountering pirates, but some days it was the only thing that kept Rin believing they’d return.

 

* * *

 

There were few things Captain Nanase enjoyed more than the sea at night. The ship seemed to steer itself, gliding across dark waters under the light of the stars. Sometimes there was a moon, and sometimes there wasn’t. But that didn’t matter to the captain, who cared more for what was beneath the water than above it.

He’d sent the crew to sleep hours ago, but heard the distinct footsteps of his quartermaster approach the helm.

“You should get some sleep, too, Haru.” Makoto was only allowed to use his given name in the absence of the other crew members.

“‘The sea is an immense desert,’” Haru quoted, “‘where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides.’”

“Jules Verne,” Makoto replied. He’d heard the quote before.

Haru steered with one hand, lifting his head to the land appearing over the horizon. “In the morning,” he said, “Japan.”

“Already?” Makoto elaborately yawned, stretching his arms overhead. The simple sound echoed over the empty sea. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

Haru nodded. He knew his quartermaster would appear in a few hours to take over, whether he’d agreed or not. Makoto clapped him on the shoulder before returning belowdecks. As he listened to his footsteps fade, he still wondered how Makoto was comfortable with their lifestyle. He’d come along without question when they were kids, but pirating and looting wasn’t what he’d expected of mild-mannered Tachibana. Haru breathed in deep, filling his lungs with the salty air, and then slowly released it. If he was going to have a quartermaster, though, there was no one else he’d trust with his ship. He patted the wheel, as if praising it.

 

He did get sleep, as instructed, but morning came too quickly. Makoto had steered them toward land, and Captain Nanase knew Japan was approaching without having to look. He could sense it in the way the ship moved, how it felt rockier nearer to the coast—as if the ship, like its captain, was more comfortable in the water.

He pulled himself from his cot when feet rumbled overhead, signs of the crew preparing to dock.

“Not too many fishers out this morning,” Makoto said, when Haru arrived at the helm. It was still early, with the sun lightening the sky but not yet appearing over the water.

“Mmm.” Haru readjusted his hat to block the imminent sunlight. “Then this will be easy.”

It looked like any other port town, which meant they’d have what any other port town would have—including necessary supplies.

The gunner released a cannonball too early. Haru sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. Hazuki was often getting reassigned from his gunner position, but somehow always convinced Makoto later that he should man the cannons. He _did_ have a good shot, Haru had to admit—the cannonball hit neither land nor fishermen, intended only as a warning shot. He smiled at the bustle on land when the villagers realized who was approaching.

He hadn’t _planned_ to be infamous—Haru would’ve preferred to be a common pirate captain—but somehow, everyone knew the name of Captain Nanase and the Silver Saba. (Makoto had requested several times to rename the ship, which Haru deliberately ignored every time.) But fame came in handy. He didn’t have to introduce himself, and he didn’t have to smile and pretend to be nice. Haru waited for the boat to dock, and for his crew to lower the gangway, before stepping away from the helm.

It was almost sad the way the villagers tried to protect their wares. Haru would’ve offered to pay if they hadn’t been so stingy. In the beginning he _had_ offered, but negotiation was a pain. It was easier to just take what was needed and get back on board as quickly as possible. The captain never felt comfortable on land for too long.

Dr. Ryugazaki stood too close by for his liking, but apparently not close enough to see Haru glaring at him. “We are in desperate need of ointment and gauze,” he said, his posture too rigid and clearly out of place among the now-swarming mass of pirates. Haru closed his eyes. He hated to hear people scream, as the villagers were now doing.

“Take Hazuki with you,” Captain Nanase replied. Another reason why Hazuki consistently wheedled his way back to the gunner position—his constant reminders that he _had_ , in fact, managed to get a surgeon on board. Haru refused to admit how useful he’d been.

Hazuki appeared as if on cue, but it wasn’t mere good timing—when they weren’t engaged in their own tasks, it was rare that Hazuki let the doctor have a moment of peace alone.

“We might have a problem, Captain,” Makoto said, who’d materialized at his side. Haru lifted his head in acknowledgement. “You have . . . a visitor.”

“What?” It sounded more like a statement, the word failing to inflect in query.

“Captain Haruka Nanase!”

The captain slowly turned to the unfamiliar voice, eyebrow twitching at the sound of his full, given name.

“Great captain of the Silver Saba! Renowned across the seven seas!”

The boy looked ridiculous. “Boy” probably wasn’t the right term, as he looked about the same age as Haru himself, but his personality was . . . annoying. He smiled widely, feet planted firmly on the ground and his arms akimbo. He was a caricature of a pirate—loose, black pants; white shirt with half the buttons unfastened; red wisps of hair escaping from a black bandana tied around his head. Everything pristinely clean. Haru wanted to tell him to button up the shirt, at least. He looked ridiculous, showing off his chest like that. Haru squinted. And did he _shave_?

Makoto cleared his throat, which was Haru’s reminder that he should say something, but he didn’t want to waste breath on the words to ask this fool what he wanted.

Makoto spoke in his stead. “What’s your business with Captain Nanase?” Haru made note to later teach him how to sound more firm. Again.

The boy— _man_ , Haru thought mournfully—had the nerve to look offended. He huffed, blowing a wayward strand of hair from his face. “My name is Rin Matsuoka. I intend to join your crew!”

Haru looked toward the sea. “No.”

“B-But— You didn’t give me a chance to explain!”

“Don’t need it.” Haru turned to his quartermaster, deliberately positioning himself so he couldn’t see the rambling land-dweller. “Are we done yet?”

The shouting of the villagers had turned into whines of defeat, which Haru couldn’t stand to listen to. It was better than that red-haired man yelling, though, as Haru turned back to his ship. He imagined he’d hear that shrill voice in his sleep, which was already bothersome.

But from the moment he returned to the rocking surface of his ship, he breathed easier. Makoto oversaw the crew, which was busy carting the last of the supplies onto the ship. As the last barrel was rolled onboard, and a couple pirates pulled in the gangway, the captain allowed himself to smile.

 

* * *

 

It was dark, but Rin didn’t care.

He was on a pirate ship.

It had been the most common of stowaway plans—jump into an empty barrel, make sure it’s close enough to the ship that the crew takes it with them. Part of the reason Rin remained in the barrel for what he felt to be hours was to settle his stomach. The idiots had _rolled_ the barrel onto the ship, and then dropped it into storage complaining it was heavy. He’d tried his hardest not to grumble, but more important was forcing his stomach to settle so he didn’t get sick all over the place.

He thought maybe night had fallen. The footsteps overhead had steadily slowed until they fell silent, the crew tucked away in their bunks. Rin popped the lid off the barrel and peeked around the storage area. It was filled from wall to wall, stocked full of barrels and crates he recognized from Port Iwatobi. He tried not to be angry about how much they’d stolen from his hometown—because Iwatobi was no longer home. Now, he lived on the open sea.

He quietly maneuvered his way out of the barrel, careful lest he crash into anything and make his presence known. Of course he’d be found, but it would be on _Rin’s_ terms. He’d _prove_ he could be a pirate. Wasn’t it proof enough that he’d snuck on board right under Captain Nanase’s nose?

 _Captain Nanase_.

Rin stopped where he half-stood, one leg still in the barrel, the other folded on an adjacent crate. He’d never forget the first time he saw the captain—quietly watching his crew work, lifting his head as his second-in-command spoke. His hair was dark as night and his eyes bluer than the sea itself. He’d almost resisted approaching because he _knew_ himself unworthy to be in the presence of a such a man.

But he’d approached anyway, and now he was aboard the Silver Saba.

Rin shook his head. The ship’s name needed some work.

He eased himself out of the barrel, matching his body’s movements with the gentle rocking of the ship. Rin had been on a boat before, but never one of this magnitude. There was a narrow walkway to a staircase between supplies, which he eventually got to by crawling over crates. When both feet were planted on the ground, he waited to gauge the ship’s movement. It wasn’t too bad—the sea was calm tonight. He listened for voices overhead as he tiptoed to the exit, but the only sounds were the creaking of the ship and the gentle splash of water outside of it.

It wasn’t until he’d climbed the staircase that he considered the door might be locked, but it wasn’t. What kind of pirates didn’t lock up their supplies? He pushed open the hatch and came eye-level with the floor, the wide expanse of the ship and the dark, glittering sky overhead. Though his view was obstructed by the door—he hadn’t opened it all the way—it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. The stars seemed bigger and brighter, and he noticed that the night sky wasn’t simply black—it was a deep, rich blue. He could’ve remained there all night, just watching the sky, but he had to see the water. And he had to see Captain Nanase.

Rin couldn’t spy the helm from his vantage point, so he assumed it was behind him. He still didn’t have his bearings on the ship yet, otherwise he would’ve known the position of everything. He pushed the door open a fraction of an inch, but his presence remained unnoticed. He poked his head out to look behind him and saw only one man—the man he wanted to see—at the wheel, staring across the water.

The captain now wore a long coat, which he hadn’t been wearing on land. It was tapered at the waist, which accentuated his slim figure. Rin could see a strip of bare skin at the collar, and the wisps of hair not concealed by his hat. The coat pulsed with his steady breathing as he took in great lungfuls of salty ocean air. Rin breathed in, too, to feel what the captain felt. It _tasted_ like the ocean, like submerging yourself in its waters, without actually having to touch it.

He slipped out of the storage room and crouched, watching, but the captain didn’t turn. The deck creaked when he stood, but not loud enough to give him away. He walked so slowly that the floorboards were silent in his approach.

But there was no hiding his shadow, which stretched across the bow. He internally cursed the moon. But still, Captain Nanase didn’t turn to acknowledge him.

“You should be asleep,” the captain said.

“Not tired,” Rin replied.

It was a little disappointing that Captain Nanase wasn’t outwardly startled. He tilted his head, barely looking over his shoulder, and then faced forward again. “It’s you.”

Rin crossed his arms. “You’re not even surprised.”

“I am.” His voice had no inflection, no indication whether he was joking or not. “Enjoy your night. We’ll drop you off in the morning.”

“Nowhere to drop me off.” He took one giant step closer, where he could better see the vast expanse of the ocean. He swept an arm across the empty, glittering sea. “No land for as far as the eye can see.”

Captain Nanase yawned. “So?”

He swallowed hard. The captain didn’t seem like the type to just _drop_ someone in the middle of the ocean, not that Rin could figure out his type at all. He revealed no emotion, but that was more dangerous—he could casually push Rin off the side without losing his course.

“I could be an essential part of your crew,” Rin said, taking another step closer. He was close enough now to touch the captain, but still stood with his arms crossed. “You can’t just throw away an opportunity like that, can you?”

Captain Nanase had both hands on the wheel, turning it slowly as the ship sailed the East China Sea. He scrunched his nose, which was both uncharacteristic of a pirate captain and unbearably cute. “You’ll work tomorrow,” he replied, and it took all Rin’s composure not to whoop in victory. “Tachibana will instruct you. Now find a place to sleep that doesn’t disturb my crew.”

He guessed Tachibana was the man who’d hovered nearby when they were at port, the one whose instructions were taken like he was the captain himself. Rin thanked him, not expecting a reply—he didn’t receive one—and found a spot on the deck to curl up for the night. He didn’t want to go back to the storage area. He wanted to listen to the sound of the water and feel the ocean breeze; he wanted to be able to hear when the first person arrived on deck in the morning.

Rin wanted to be ready. He was on his way to becoming a pirate.

 

* * *

 

When the sun had risen and Makoto had taken over, Haru retired to his cabin to take a nap. But he couldn’t sleep. He’d watched the stowaway sleeping on deck, curled into the ropes for warmth, and he hated that he’d gone into his own inventory to get the idiot a blanket. Matsuoka had clutched the blanket as he slept, like a baby, curling into himself for warmth.

The captain usually didn’t have trouble sleeping—the rocking of the ship helped lull him to sleep—but he heard every little noise above deck, and would swear he could hear an unfamiliar set of feet. _Rin Matsuoka_. Already he was a pain in the ass. Haru pulled the blanket over his head, trying to drown it out, wishing for nothing more than sleep.

But when he slept, it wasn’t for long. He woke to sunlight streaming through his porthole, illuminating his cot and warming his bare feet that were sticking out at the end. He sat up with a groan, yawning as he rubbed the back of his head. Suddenly, he was genuinely curious how Matsuoka was getting on—mostly because Makoto hadn’t come down with any pressing issues.

When Haru stepped on deck, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. It was a perfect mid-afternoon on the water, the white clouds overhead fluffy and the sea frighteningly calm. He spotted Makoto, who was steering the ship while he chatted with Hazuki, but Matsuoka wasn’t nearby. He wondered if he’d already been pushed overboard, a thought that he was surprised to find worried him slightly.

But Matsuoka made himself known. “Captain Nanase!” Haru turned and there he was, too far away to have a conversation—the man was just too loud for his ship—but, thankfully, hard at work. The bandana around his head had a purpose now, pushing his hair from his face as he mopped. Doctor Ryugazaki oversaw his work, which he thought an odd choice at first. But he _was_ the newest recruit, so his knowledge of menial jobs was still fresh. Haru made note to praise Makoto for that decision later.

Matsuoka was still waving, evidently waiting for a reply, so Haru reluctantly offered a small wave back. His laugh was loud and annoying, throwing back his head like Haru’s wave was the best thing he’d seen all day. Though after scrubbing the deck of a pirate ship, it probably was.

“Captain!” Rei squared his shoulders. “The fishermen say there is a good catch today! We think you will be pleased!”

Haru lifted his eyebrows. As if on command, one of the fishermen approached with a cast-iron pan, the fish inside still hot and sizzling. Haru’s eyelids fluttered closed as the scent wafted to his nostrils, and he regretted that he let out such a vulnerable sound in front of his crew. But when he opened his eyes, they were all smiling—Matsuoka included, which annoyed him slightly, but not enough to tear his focus away from the fish. _Mackerel_. It had been so long.

“Matsuoka.” The man stood at attention, clicking his heels as he saluted. “Eat lunch with me.” Then the captain turned, not waiting for a reply but expecting both his stowaway and the fisherman to follow.

His private mess hall was small, just enough to fit a table set for six. Its porthole was nearly man-sized which, being belowdecks, looked out only underwater. They were silent as the chef set the table and prepared lunch, the scent of mackerel tempting as it filled the small room. Matsuoka had immediately gone to the window, pressing both hands to the glass as he looked out.

“Incredible,” he whispered. It was the quietest Haru had heard him since they’d met.

Haru stood beside him, hands behind his back as he followed Matsuoka’s gaze. A small school of fish passed the window, and he smiled wide like a child. He was still wearing the same clothes from the day prior, but they were slightly dirtied now and stiff under the arms with sweat. The bridge of his nose was pink with sunburn.

“Why do you want to be a pirate?” Haru asked.

Matsuoka’s smile settled into something softer, and Haru regretted asking. It was going to be something sentimental. And he was right, when Matsuoka began talking about his father—grand dreams, a wish unfulfilled, a story that wasn’t entirely original. But the spark in his eye told Haru it was real. He leaned his forehead against the window as he talked, but Haru interrupted him.

“And your family?” he asked.

Matsuoka looked away, but Haru could see his sad smile in the reflection of the window. “I told them that I’d follow you. But I don’t think they believed me…”

Haru opened his mouth before he could think of what to say, but the chef interrupted his attempt at consolation—if that was what he’d planned. Matsuoka turned at the scent of fish and vegetables, and Haru nodded to the table to indicate he should sit. He waited for the stowaway to sit first, and he surprised Haru by selecting a chair that didn’t face the window. Less of a distraction. But that meant, when the captain sat across from him, Matsuoka’s focus would be all on him. He couldn’t decide whether that was a positive.

Haru inhaled the scent of the mackerel before picking up his silverware. He watched his guest, wondering if he knew _how_ to handle silverware, but he did surprisingly well. They ate slowly, silently, the only sound in the room being the click of silverware on China. He studied Matsuoka and the way he ate—how he sliced off a piece of fish with the knife, then scooped it up with his rice. Haru wasn’t sure why he found this so interesting, when he did the same himself. Matsuoka’s shirt was still partially open, and he stared at his exposed clavicle. Though the room was cool he was still sweating, and it beaded on his skin like water.

“The work’s not too bad up there,” Matsuoka said. “Dr. Rei is pretty all right. How’d you get him on board?”

 _Dr. Rei?_ “We needed a doctor.”

Though Haru had been completely serious, Matsuoka laughed. It wasn’t as annoying as it had been before. “You’re lucky to have one.”

“Why are you here?” Haru cut him off before he could talk about something else completely inane.

Matsuoka pouted. “I told you. I’m joining your crew.”

Before he had “wanted” to. Now he spoke as if it were a definite. “Why mine?” He speared a piece of fish. “Because I showed up first?”

 _“No.”_ He sat up straight, a silently apology to his firm tone. Haru didn’t say anything, because Matsuoka had blushed and kept on talking anyway. “Other ships have come to Iwatobi,” he said, which was an obvious lie, but Haru didn’t interrupt. “I wasn’t ready, I guess. But you… Captain Nanase. The Silver Saba.” Like Haru didn’t know who he was. “What is _with_ the name of this ship, anyway?”

Haru ignored the question. “I’m an ordinary captain.”

“Are you kidding?” Matsuoka pointed his fork at him, but quickly put it down. “Never mind the stories right now. Just look at you.” He held his arms out, as if the private mess hall meant anything. “Your crew respects you. You treat them like people, you know? And you could’ve tossed this annoying stowaway overboard the second you knew I was there.” He grinned, and Haru forced a scowl. “This ship is beautiful. _You’re_ —”

“Enough.”

Haru would’ve been content eating the rest of his meal in silence. But at least Matsuoka had the decency to switch topics. He was talking about the beauty of the night sky now—something Haru already knew—but there was a passion in his voice that Haru had ever only _felt_ , never expressed. The blue-black sky, glittering with stars, the calm of the ocean and the sound of the ship passing over it. “Beautiful” _was_ the word, which Matsuoka must have picked up from the doctor, but it was the only word to describe the night.

“I like steering at night better,” Haru said, surprised to hear himself actually answer.

Matsuoka still had land-dweller skin, a smooth tan from a couple hours on a beach, maybe protected by sunscreen. It made his blush more pronounced. It was almost cute.

“I’ll talk to the quartermaster,” Haru said. “We’ll decide if you stay another night.”

Matsuoka either ignored or missed the subtle threat. “That’s Makoto, right?”

Haru rolled his eyes as he resumed eating.

 

* * *

 

There had been few things stranger than dining with Captain Nanase, but Rin had loved it. It was nothing like dinner on the mess deck that night, which was noisy and crowded and smelled of unwashed bodies. Rin loved that, too, but imagined he’d enjoy it more if he were familiar with everyone. One day he would be, but for now he stood with his tray in both hands and searched for the few people he’d met onboard. Makoto was nowhere in sight—probably talking with the absent captain—but he spotted Dr. Rei and the gunner, Nagisa, who rarely left his side. It looked like they were already saving a spot for him, and they smiled when he joined them.

He was surprised that the meal was hearty and balanced, and everyone at their table even ate their greens. When he mentioned this to his dining mates, Dr. Rei grinned. “A nutritious meal is essential for the laborious work of piracy,” he said.

Nagisa nodded. “Food is important to the captain. We eat a lot of fish!”

“ _Saba_ ,” Rin said, remembering his lunch and the ship’s name. Nagisa laughed, as if he knew.

There had been a steady flow of pirates bustling in and out of the room, often traveling in groups and sitting down where Rin suspected they’d always sat. He wondered if he was tagged now for this particular table—would he get to meet the others? Was this seat across from the doctor now his designated seat, the one he would always turn to for the evening meal?

The buzz of the room quickly settled down, and Rin didn’t need Nagisa’s whispered explanation to understand the reason. He’d been watching the stairs, and had likely been the first person to see Captain Nanase’s feet. He knew those boots; it was the first part of the captain he’d seen his first night onboard. He wore his long coat again, with a blue sash tied around his waist. The quartermaster followed and they all waited, in case he would speak, but they didn’t even pause at the bottom of the stairs. The captain nodded to his crew in silent acknowledgement as he passed through the tables, and Rin choked around a mouthful of mashed potatoes when he realized where they were heading. He coughed, downing a glass of water as Captain Nanase stood at the head of their table.

“Hi, Captain!” Nagisa said, saluting.

Dr. Rei adjusted his glasses. “To what do we owe the honor?”

Makoto answered instead. “I think I’ll eat with you guys tonight,” he said. He then turned to Rin. “Rin, do you mind?”

“Huh? Oh… uh, no, it’s fine.” There were a few empty chairs he couldn’t occupied instead but Rin stumbled as he stood, his chair scraping the floor as he pushed it back. There was still a portion of mashed potatoes and salad on his tray—he’d eaten all his fish, which he hoped the captain had noticed—and Makoto sat, as if he would finish the meal himself.

“Matsuoka.” Captain Nanase kept his voice low, nearly inaudible even in the hush of the mess deck. Now that they were standing face to face, Rin could see he was slightly taller than the captain. Neither were _short_ men, but it didn’t seem right to make the man look up to him. Rin deliberately slouched, and the captain narrowed his eyes like he understood the reason.

Then he silently turned and walked back to the stairs. Rin glanced at the table—and the quartermaster who had deliberately taken his seat—and the slight nod from Makoto told him to follow.

The captain hadn’t gone far. He stood at the top of the steps, looking over his shoulder as Rin ascended. Then in a silent, moody way Rin was already accustomed to, he turned toward his own private quarters.

Captain Nanase unlocked a door with a key dangling around his neck, and then they were descending again belowdecks. His quarters were more of a suite than a cabin, the stairs opening to a sitting room lined with the oversized portholes Rin had seen in his dining quarters. The captain nodded to an overstuffed blue chair, and Rin hesitated only slightly before sitting down. The chairs were positioned beside a window that looked out to the ocean, and nearby was a small bar lined with bottles of various colors. The captain removed his jacket to hang it on a hook, and Rin couldn’t help but stare at his trim, lean backside. His white shirt was tucked neatly into his trousers, complemented rather nicely with a wide leather belt. He poured two drinks at the bar before sitting across from Rin.

“This place is beautiful,” Rin said, staring directly at the captain rather than his quarters.

“It’s too much.” He passed one of the glasses to Rin, who sniffed it before taking a sip—rum, of course.

But the captain held his own glass in both hands without drinking it, staring out into the ocean as he spoke. “You’ll stay,” he said, and it took all Rin’s composure not to break into a grin. “Makoto said you’ve picked things up and”—he scowled—“you would benefit the crew.”

“Ha!” Rin crossed a leg over his knee and sat back into the chair. “See, I just had to prove myself. I won’t let you down, Captain.” He took another sip of rum. “Where’s the berth, anyway? I haven’t been around that part—”

“You’ll stay here,” Captain Nanase interrupted.

“I’ll— what?” He still wouldn’t look at Rin. He finally drank from his glass, a smooth motion like he was drinking water and not straight liquor. “Ah, some kind of initiation, right? You’ve gotta monitor me and all that.”

“No.” He set his glass on a side table, and his shaking hands weren’t obvious until he’d set it down. The glass rattled slightly on the wooden tabletop before he let go. “You’ll stay with me.”

Rin blushed too easily. He felt it crawl up his neck, coloring his ears and cheeks. His throat was dry, and the rum did little to alleviate it.

“You can join me at night,” he continued, “or you can stay in my bed.”

“But… what if we want to sleep at the same time?”

Rin hadn’t expected a verbal response, but he also hadn’t expected the slight blush that crawled onto the captain’s weather-worn cheeks. “You can look around,” he said instead, dismissing the conversation.

The room _was_ elaborate, and Rin wanted to absorb every little detail of it. But, he now thought, he’d have plenty of time—if he was to be staying in the captain’s quarters. The room was locked, as he’d seen, but he didn’t want bother asking how he’d get in. Obviously, he was under the captain’s observation.

He took a slow walk around the room while holding his glass in both hands. The walls were gaudily papered in red and gold, which Rin assumed to be the previous tenant—Captain Nanase didn’t seem like the red and gold type. There were a few paintings on the walls, of oceans and its creatures, and one small photograph in the corner of two young boys playing on the beach. It didn’t require detective work to see they were the captain and the quartermaster, both donning swim trunks as they tested the water. Rin smiled despite himself. “You and Makoto have been friends a long time.”

The captain _hmm_ ed noncommittally. It wasn’t until Rin had turned to the next wall that he replied, “I’ve never known life without him.”

Rin stood before what he assumed to be the bedroom door, hand around the knob without turning it. But Captain Nanase didn’t stop him, even when the knob creaked as it turned. There was little light in his private berth, to be expected of a man who often slept during daylight hours. There was one small porthole, and the room was only large enough to fit a cot and a side table. “Cozy,” Rin said, pushing out the image of them both sleeping there at the same time.

“Suitable,” Captain Nanase replied.

Rin hadn’t noticed that he’d gotten up, and his voice was a lot closer than he’d expected. He still stood in the doorway, staring at the cot where the captain slept, curled up in that indistinct blanket, the color of which Rin couldn’t even tell in the shadows. A light blue, if he were to guess.

He wanted to turn around but the captain stood in the doorway, too, one hand on the doorframe. It was a strange feeling to know someone was watching, more so from a close proximity, not even trying to hide it. When Rin peered over his shoulder, Captain Nanase was taking a slow sweep of his body. He didn’t even look away when their eyes met, and it was an anomaly of nature itself that his eyes shone in the dark of his cabin.

“When do you go out at night, Captain?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Haru,” he said, and Rin’s heart leaped to his throat. “But not in front of anyone.”

“O-Of course.” Rin coughed.

“Sleep first,” Haru said, lightly nudging him into the room. Rin didn’t think he could sleep, but he obediently followed.

 

* * *

 

Haru had let him sleep. He enjoyed the solitude, anyway, standing at the helm as he steered. Not that Rin had been a pest to _him_ all day—Haru had done a decent enough job avoiding him—but Haru took whatever alone time he could get.

Besides, the stowaway had been running himself ragged all day. Makoto reported that he did _twice_ the amount of work as the others, which Haru hadn’t believed until he’d seen him on the mess deck. After only a day, Rin looked slightly more rugged and—he had to admit—adorably sunburned. Haru had left him aloe and a jacket for when he woke.

He heard the door close before he heard Rin’s footsteps. He was good at being stealthy; any normal man wouldn’t have heard him advance.

“You didn’t wake me,” Rin said. He sounded more confused than hurt.

“You needed sleep.” When Rin stood beside him, he was pleased to see he wore the jacket. It was a little snug around the middle—he probably couldn’t sit comfortably—but it would do until he had his own. “Look.” Haru pointed toward the water, and Rin squinted to see. He could have just as easily walked up to the bow, but was determined to remain at the captain’s side.

“Hey!” Rin’s voice echoed over the empty sea, and he lowered it to a whisper. “Sharks!”

They’d been swimming alongside the ship for a while now, and Haru was glad they were still there for him to see. Rin watched the water, the childlike wonder shining on his face. When he put an arm around Haru’s shoulders, the captain didn’t say anything—even though Rin’s coat strained around the shoulders and made it uncomfortable.

“Look farther,” Haru said now, inclining his head toward the horizon. He wondered if Rin could see it. His own eyes were trained for the nighttime hours, trained to see potential threats in the distance. Just as he was trained to listen for the slice of a shark’s fin in the water, or the happy cries of dolphins as they tried to reach the pirates’ extended hands over the sides of the ship.

Rin squinted. He stood close enough that Haru could see his pupils dilate as they adjusted to the dark. “What is it?” he asked.

“A ship,” Haru simply replied.

His eyes widened. “An enemy?”

Haru smiled. “We’re the enemy, Rin.”

He’d used his given name. Rin smiled, even as he stared at the speck in the distance. They wouldn’t reach it until morning; Haru didn’t even know if would be worth the trouble. But Rin seemed to consider this, staring at the indistinct shadow, leaning his head closer to Haru’s like that would provide a better view.

“Are you ready?” Haru asked.

Rin looked down at the wheel, which Haru continued to steadily steer. “Can I stay by you?” His voice betrayed no hint of fear, which worried the captain more. He could have stood by anyone during a raid. He could have stood on his own.

“Yes.” He paused. “The first time.”

“Then I’m ready, Haru.”

It was the way Rin said his name. It was the way he smiled at the horizon, and the heavy weight of the arm around his shoulders. It was the way Haru didn’t complain when he held one of the handles, because Rin wasn’t trying to steer. He was trying to feel the ship, to understand the way it cut through the water.

Haru lifted his head to the darkening sky. “Rain soon.” It had been threatening since dinnertime, despite the blue skies, but he tasted the shift of the wind. He pulled the wheel harder.

“Do you stay out here?” Rin asked.

“Of course.” He tried not to sound offended. “I’m the captain.”

Rin nodded. His arm was around Haru’s waist now, the other hand still grasping the wheel’s handle. “Then I’m staying with you.”

The rain gave no warning to the untrained sailor. It was like driving straight through a waterfall, the rain coming down in a violent, steady stream. Rin let go of the wheel but he still held to Haru, both arms around his waist now as he lifted his head to the sky and laughed. “This is amazing!”

Haru had been momentarily blinded, but his eyes adjusted to the dark again as he jerked the wheel. He was determined to stay on course. “Don’t resist the water,” he shouted over the rain.

“Never!” Rin shook his head like a wet dog, not that it made a difference. “The water is great!”

 _Because you’re not steering a ship_ , he thought, hands wet and frozen to the handles.

The storm passed as quickly as it had come. When Rin let go of him—Haru hadn’t noticed he’d been holding on the entire time—he wiggled out of his too-tight jacket to wring it out. “Are we still on course?” he asked, peeling off his sodden shirt. The water splashed to the deck when he balled it in his fists. “Never mind. Of course we are.”

“Of course,” Haru replied, shaking out his hair. Rin put his shirt back on, which was nearly transparent with rainwater. It hugged every curve of his muscles.

A door creaked open then, and Makoto’s familiar footsteps crossed the deck. “Oh!” He paused some distance away. “Rin!” Makoto held out a folded towel in his palms like an offering.

“Go change,” Haru said to Rin, who was now shivering. “The drawers under the cot.” He hesitated, but then gathered his sodden jacket from where he’d dropped it on the deck.

“I’ll take care of that,” Makoto said, extending a hand for the jacket. “Go ahead.” Rin mumbled a “Thanks” through chattering teeth and then hurried belowdecks. Makoto lay the towel around Haru’s shoulders, waiting until Rin had disappeared to speak.

“We’re still on course,” he said, as if Haru didn’t know. Makoto stood beside the wheel, the damp jacket slung across his folded arms. Waiting. He would wait forever, and the longer he stood in silence the more Haru didn’t want to talk.

He watched the ocean instead, pointedly not looking at his quartermaster. Haru took one hand off the wheel to squeeze water from his hair with the towel. “He’s staying permanently,” he finally said.

Makoto nodded and then ticked off his fingers, like he was counting. “We might have to rearrange the berth. It’s a little cramped already, but Dr. Ryugazaki likes him. Maybe they can share—”

“As my lover,” he interrupted.

Makoto dropped his hands, hiding them again under the folds of Rin’s borrowed jacket. The ship rocked unsteadily, the ocean still off-kilter by the sudden storm. Water had trickled into Haru’s boots, soaking his thick wool socks. Makoto cleared his throat. “Do you… want me to take over for the night?”

Haru had steered the ship soaking wet before. He accepted the water; it accepted him. But now, he looked down to his sodden jacket, to the water that had seeped into his clothes and his skin underneath. “I’m going to change.”

Rin hadn’t emerged from his quarters yet. Haru descended the stairs, expecting to run into Rin on the way down, but he was still in the sitting room. He’d found a bathrobe—one that Haru had been looking forward to wearing himself—and was standing before the photograph of Haru and Makoto as children.

Part of Haru wanted to say something as way of explanation, but no explanation was required. They were children; he’d already revealed how long they’d been friends. Haru made his presence known by touching Rin’s back before crossing into his bedroom.

“When did you become pirates?” Rin asked.

Haru’s wet shirt audibly peeled off his skin, then he tossed it into a bucket. “When I was tired of working for someone else.” He dumped his pants into the pile.

“This was someone else’s ship,” Rin replied.

Haru shrugged, even though Rin couldn’t see. “I liked it more than mine.”

He didn’t say anything when Rin watched him dress. Haru had completely stripped down, his skin damp as he rummaged for a spare bathrobe in the drawers beneath the cot. He pulled one out that belonged to the ship’s previous captain, which he’d never worn. It smelled musty, but it was dry as he pulled it on. Haru scowled when Rin laughed, the robe too long and dusting the floor.

“Take that ridiculous thing off,” Rin said. “We’ll trade.” He untied his belt, but Haru grasped the robe’s lapels before he could slip it off. He shucked off his own robe instead, dropping it to the floor, then stepped into Rin’s while he still wore it.

Rin was completely nude under the robe, his skin clammy but beginning to warm. “Body heat,” Haru explained. It was several long moments before Rin moved, wrapping both arms and the robe about the captain. The cocoon of their bodies produced more heat than if one wore a robe on his own. When Rin realized they wouldn’t be moving, he held on tighter.

“Are we going back out?” Rin asked. It was the _we_ , the understanding he was a part of this ship now, a part of the captain himself. _We_ , a slip of the tongue or a deliberate test.

“We’re going to bed,” Haru answered.

 

* * *

 

The first time they’d shared the narrow bed for their nap, they’d slept back to back and tried not to touch. It had been wholly unmemorable, besides being the first time Rin had slept beside someone he wasn’t related to. But not only was Captain Nanase— _Haru_ —curled in the circle of his arms, they were both naked as the day they were born.

“You’ll need a coat,” Haru said, which was confirmation enough that he was there to stay.

Rin combed Haru’s damp hair with his fingers, gently working out the tangles from the sudden rain. “Hey, Captain,” he said, pushing the hair back to see his face. “Do all recruits spend their first night in the captain’s quarters?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he mumbled. He propped up on Rin’s chest, shivering when his naked shoulders were exposed. Of all his confidence he almost looked nervous then, staring down at Rin’s face with knitted eyebrows. “You’ll stay with me,” he said. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but his voice had gone suddenly soft. His heart visibly beat in his naked chest. He leaned down, forehead to forehead, breathing hot on Rin’s mouth.

Rin smirked. “I didn’t plan on seducing the captain.”

“Shut up.” Haru crossed the slight space between them to kiss him.

He’d expected the captain’s lips to feel rough and chapped, but they were surprisingly soft. Perhaps it was the years of sea travel, the salty air clearing away the impurities. But Rin wouldn’t have cared if he’d tasted like dead fish. He was kissing _Captain Nanase_ , and that meant more than his forthcoming outerwear.

 

There’d been a small stack of clothes for Rin in the sitting room when he woke, and he seemed to understand right away that they were Makoto’s hand-me-downs. They’d fit better than Haru’s clothes, at least, though he still felt like a child in his father’s trousers.

“No sword,” Haru had said, when they’d prepared for the raid. He smiled slightly at Rin’s pout, not that that changed his mind. Haru’s own sword was unsheathed as he stood at the bow, watching as Makoto steered the Silver Saba to the commercial ship they’d soon step foot on. Haru towered over them all, elevated on a platform, but Rin stood as close as possible without touching. His head only came up to Haru’s thigh. Rin slipped a hand into his pocket, feeling for his father’s compass. He smiled, then knotted the bandana tighter around his head.

“Your first job,” Haru said, and Rin stood up straighter. “Fend for yourself.”

Rin blinked up at him. “What?”

“You need clothes.” He glanced at Rin’s borrowed outfit. “And soap. Whatever you need.”

“Condoms?” Rin smirked.

Haru adjusted his tricorn hat, casting his face in shadow. “If you need them.”

Commercial ships were hit or miss—they could be carrying essentials like food and clothing, or frivolities no pirate would care about. But even before his crew stepped foot onto the other’s deck, he recognized the crates of fresh fruit and vegetables. “Stock up,” he called over his shoulder, and the crew whooped in reply. They hadn’t even touched the other ship before the crew began to leap over the chasm of the ocean to get onto it. Only Makoto stayed behind, sword at his side, keeping watch of their own ship. When Haru looked over his shoulder, his quartermaster nodded.

“Let’s go,” Haru said, taking Rin’s hand before they leaped onto the neighboring vessel.

 _Captain Nanase_ , they heard in whispers, even as the ship’s crew tried to ward off the pirates. _The Silver Saba!_ The captain had released Rin’s hand but he stayed close by, sword at the ready, though no one yet advanced on him.

“Hey!” Rin jerked his chin to a member of the commercial ship’s crew. “Gimme that coat.”

Rin couldn’t see the way Captain Nanase glared at the man, and didn’t know it was that look that made the man toss his coat to the captain’s lover. Rin laughed, then grabbed Haru’s arm before pushing through the melee.

“The sword!” Haru yelled, trying to sheathe it as they ran. “You can’t just—!”

“Stay by my side!” he shouted in reply. “You promised!”

Rin pulled them into a narrow space between crates, which lingered with the overwhelming scent of citrus. He grabbed the captain around the waist and kissed him, clutching the back of his jacket amidst the riot of howling pirates.

Kissing was a distraction, taking away from the time they could’ve spent gathering supplies. But Haru kissed him back, his lips imbued with the permanent taste of the open sea.

“Get to work,” Haru said when he pulled away. As he turned, Rin lifted a crate of oranges over his head and practically skipped back toward the Silver Saba.

“Change your damn ship name!” he yelled over his shoulder, but Haru pretended not to hear as he descended into the berth for clothes and toiletries.

It was a good haul. When they boarded their own ship again, Makoto inspected each crate before it was carried into the storage deck. Rin watched as he recorded inventory on a clipboard, making note of each crate of fruit and barrel of wine. Captain Nanase steered the ship away from the commercial vessel, who was busy taking their own inventory of what had gone missing.

“You check everything?” Rin asked, peering at the clipboard.

“Of course.”

“Hmm.” He watched a wine barrel being carefully rolled into inventory. From somewhere below, Dr. Rei shrieked and Nagisa was laughing.

Makoto didn’t look up from his clipboard, but Rin caught him smile. “Something the matter, Rin?”

“Nothin’. Just…” He shrugged. “Maybe you missed a couple at Iwatobi, that’s all.”

“No.” Makoto hadn’t stopped smiling. “I didn’t.”

He stared at the hatch for the storage deck, remembering how he’d peeked out that first day and looked to this very spot—and how it had clumsily been unlocked.

“Did you know, Rin,” Makoto said as he worked, “that the quartermaster has the power to veto the captain’s orders?”

“I know that,” he replied defensively.

“Mmm.” The last crate passed by them, and Makoto wrote _beets_ on the list before fitting the cap on his pen. “We agree on most things,” he said, looking up at Haru, “but sometimes he needs some urging.”

“Hang on.” Rin looked back and forth between the two men. “You _knew_ that I crammed myself into—”

Makoto’s nervous laugh cut him off. “ _Shh_.” His voice fell to a whisper. “The captain can’t know I messed up inventory.”

Rin put his hands into the pockets of his new jacket. It hadn’t been an arbitrary selection—the sailor he’d swiped it from had a similar build, and it had looked good on him. It wasn’t exactly Captain Nanase’s sweeping, form-fitting coat, but it fit and it was warm. He grinned at Makoto before skipping up to the helm, taking the compass from his pocket though he already knew they traveled south.

Haru glanced at the ancient compass. “Your father’s,” he said, shifting his eyes to the water again.

Rin slipped it back into his pocket. “Yeah.” In his new coat, he could comfortably put an arm around Haru’s shoulders. He held him loosely, making sure not to obstruct his steering. “You think he knows I’m a pirate now?” he asked, lifting his head to the cloudless sky.

Haru held back a smile. “One job doesn’t prove anything.”

“So mean.” He pecked Haru’s cheek. “Guess I gotta prove it to you.” He squeezed Haru’s shoulder, then stretched both hands behind his back. “What next, Captain?”

“Buried treasure,” Haru deadpanned.

“Really? I thought you didn’t— Hey! Don’t take advantage of the new recruit.”

Haru shifted to steer one-handed, slipping the other into the pocket of Rin’s pants. It was warm against his thigh, and he lightly stroked his fingertips over the fabric. Rin breathed in deep, feeling the ocean air through his lungs, absorbing the wooden scent of the ship and saltwater. He put a hand into his pocket, linking his fingers through Haru’s.

“ _Do_ you have treasure?” Rin asked, bumping his hip.

Haru sighed, not taking his eyes off the ocean. “Go to work,” he replied. “Makoto has a list.”

Rin took one last look at the captain’s view, of the sprawling expanse of water and the islands dotted in the distance. Any one of them could be their destination, or they could bypass them completely. He was under the command of Captain Nanase and his ridiculously-named ship. He grinned, kissed Haru’s lips, then grasped his compass as he bounded down to where Makoto waited by the sails.

**Author's Note:**

> ([Here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/106822140773) on tumblr.)


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